A Brief (but very good) History of the Goblin King and Sarah Williams
by Redwood 2.0
Summary: (1800s AU) Lady of the British court, Sarah Williams comes across a rather strange being. It's a tale as old as time full of corsets, conquests, and a chicken salad sandwich thief (face me Brian).


Over the course of history only one fact is certain.

Historians are exceedingly petty creatures who constantly feel the need to disagree with one another. On just about simply everything.

For example, some would argue that Sarah Williams was a particularly beautiful woman. Others would argue that she wasn't attractive per-say, but would have had an extraordinarily charismatic personality.

From my studying, I've gathered that Sarah would have probably thrown hands if you said either of those statements to her face, but that wouldn't stop historians from arguing back and forth about it. Back and forth. And back. And forth. Really does do my head in. Honestly.

All I can really say to you dear reader is petty.

Petty. Petty. Petty.

Disgustingly so.

In fact some would go as far to say that certain historians are the most lecherous, backstabbing scum that one could ever comprehend (Brian, I'm talking about you. I know you stole my chicken salad sandwich from the staffroom fridge and you're wrong about fairies powers over the space and time continuum you absolute cretan. Face me like a man, Brian).

Now the petty nature of historians certainly makes the telling of this story pretty hard but we've all got to make do, don't we?

I'll start with the (somewhat conflicting) facts.

Terry Jones, historian of the fair folk of Europe, who of course is well known for his dislike of fae stated that, "_Like all big moments in history, the incidents of 1842 could be blamed on the fact that an incredibly horny fae could not keep his dick in his tights..." _(T. Jones' _A Guide to Understanding the Elite Fae of the Victorian Era, _1997 edition with foreword by Trevor Jones (definitely, _definitely_ no relations)).

Then again renowned historian on the intertwining themes of fae and human nature and the liminal spaces between said themes, Shari Weiser claimed, _"If anything, the year 1842 would provide the world with one of the greatest love stories ever seen. A rare occurrence when a being tarnished with the longevity of immortality would fall for the beautiful fragility of life which only a mortal could provide." _(Shari Weiser's _Tragic Love Stories, _2013 edition with foreword by Miss Piggy).

But we have to remember that Weiser is considered a bit soppy in these matters.

Soppier than a three day old chicken salad sandwich, lying broken, innards tumbling out bare for the whole, cold, hard world to see. Neglected and forgotten at the bottom of some arsehole coworker's wastepaper bin (Brian, I know you're reading this. The least you could have done was eaten the whole sandwich and goddamn it, appreciated and coveted it in the same way that the Goblin King appreciated and coveted his beloved Sarah Williams. I'll be waiting for you Brian. Meet me in the parking lot after work Bucko. I know you weren't hungry for my sandwich but I bet you're hungry for my fucking fists. If you tell OH and S about this, you'll wish to the goblins you'd have died in the great pixie office heist of '83).

Where was I? Oh yes, historical perspectives. Well where Weiser was soppy, Jones was like a ruler. Rigid, exact, replacements are easy to find at any good news agency for under $3.99.

You see Jones, while a very legitimate, boring, stick-up-the-ass historian, is thought to be quite biased in his opinions surrounding the fae. Ever since his wife ran away with the bourgeoise fae she was having an affair with he just keeps releasing book after book on how fae's polygamy is a danger to society.

And I mean the man just won't shut up about it... Like, Terry, I don't care about your backstabbing wretch of a wife. Let me enjoy the office Christmas party in peace. Jeez. Maybe your wife didn't leave you for a magical dick. Maybe it was because you're a little bum.

Anyway... I do beg your pardon. I seem to keep going off track. You came here about Jareth and Sarah didn't you? I thought so. I can tell. You have the look about you.

Well, all that is known for certain is during a summer storm late 1842, The Goblin King and Lord of the Labyrinth, Jareth, attempted to spirit away siblings Sarah and Tobias Williams, children of relatively obscure noble Robert Williams (fifty-second in line for British throne) with the intention of wedding the, then seventeen year old, Sarah.

This incident obviously nearly prompted an interspecies war but who cares about a story on the deep intricacies of politics in colonial Britain during war and the heart-wrenching tale of Widget the trench warfare goblin who splattered loyally protecting his King.

No, you're here for the passionate, lusty Victorian era smut, featuring bodice ripping and David Bowie's rather impressive penis.

_Aren't you?_ I said you had the look about you.

Do you even _know _how much time, effort and dedication I have put into compiling facts about this subject? How hard it is to remain objective with such a narrative of epic proportions? Widget had a family and deserves a voice, you heartless monsters.

Oh my! I am sorry. I lost myself for a moment there.

Anyway, after years of tirelessly translating countless fae texts, letters and political documents (I will be the first to admit that the translation is sloppy at times, and perhaps does not accurately translate the true events) I believe that I have complied the most definitive version of the tale of the Goblin King and Sarah. And you can read it here. Enjoy. (Except you Brian. I deeply and utterly hate you. Die.)

* * *

_A/N: I don't own the labyrinth. But if I did I would sell hentai pillows of David Bowie as the Goblin King and make a bloody fortune. Apologies Iman. I know that's probs a bit disrespectful._

Now dear reader, I deeply hope you read these past 950 words and just whispered "wtf?" to yourself very quietly at least once. If I don't elicit that reaction from my readers then is life even worth living? Who knows? Not me.

I reckon from here on out tho we will have a much more solid J and S, slow burn, bodice ripper on our hands. And probs a Sherlock Holmes Cameo.


End file.
